No Surprise
by Dairi
Summary: It was a ridiculous idea, anyway.


**Title:** No Surprise

**Summary:** It was a ridiculous idea, anyway.

_**Disclaimer: I do not own.**_

A/N: This is my first time writing anything Cap-related, though hopefully not the last. Peggy's chara really intruiged me(thought she was awesome!), and this fic has been rolling around in my head since I saw Captain America: The First Avenger for the first time a couple of months ago. It was such a sad ending! ... Yet strangely endearing. So, I finally got around to writing this, and I hope that I did decent, at least, by Peggy's character.

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It was a ridiculous notion. One heck of a long shot. Foolish, idioctic. Everything she wasn't and never wished to have any part of.

Yet - and she realized this was indeed a sorry thing - she could not condemn the small seed of hope that still lingered deep within her. Yes, the aircraft carrying him had crashed, had gone down over icy waters. By all accounts, when that line went dead, cutting her Captain off, well...it was common belief that, in that moment or very soon after, it was not just the line that 'went dead.'

This, Peggy refused to believe. And she knew she was not alone. Howard had vowed to never give up in searching for whatever may remain of the downed aircraft.

Needless to say, only a week later, no traces of the aforementioned air-vechile had yet been found.

Still. Outlandish as it was, that next Saturday, when the sun was just starting to disappear over the horizon, Peggy found herself slipping into one of the few fancier dresses that she owned. She kept telling herself this was stupid, it was a ridiculous idea and there was no humanly -imperfect or otherwise- possible way he could've made it out of that wreckage, unknown to anyone else, and show up for their rain-checked date, for the dance. She kept telling herself of all these things, reminders she really didn't need, as she continued to get herself ready.

About thirty minutes later, we find her climbing out of a cab. She pauses only to turn and tip the driver, then turns on her heel once more and inhales deeply, holding it for a second or two. Eyes on the pavement, she takes this moment to steady herself. She is suddenly struck by the notion that, will it be even more heart-breaking when he does not show? Because, she knows he won't.

But a promise is a promise. When she gave her word, she never went back on it. She had made plans with him, so in a sense it was the same thing, wasn't it? Indeed it was. So it was a matter of pride, really. Head held up high, her face a picture of determination, she strode toward the enterance of the Stork Club, her heels clicking against the cement with each step she took.

The lighting inside is set low, but she can still make out quite clearly the number of couples occupying the dance floor. Her eyes dim a little, but outwardly she shows no other reaction. Inwardly, she has the sudden and very strong desire to stab something. Instead, she turns and makes her way to one of the tables. She chose a table that had a good view of the door. Why she'd done that, she can only imagine. For the next few hours her gaze switches idly from her clasped hands resting on top of the table, to the door and back again.

She was early. It was only a minute or two past 7:45. He still had time. Sitting here, all by herself, she would wait for him. Time seemed be crawl as she sat here, turning away the few gentlemen that would appear before her and try for a dance. She'd say no, she was waiting for someone. Waiting for her partner. That seemed to satisfy the first two knuckleheads that came over. The third one was a little more difficult, probably on a dare from some so-called friend, but her sharp tongue made quick work of him.

After this third one was limping off to lick his wounds, Peggy's eyes glanced up to the clock on teh wall. She could just make out the positioning of the two hands, but there was no mistaking the time it read: 8:03. He was now late. And she had specially told him to be on time. How inconsiderate...

The her ears picked up the song that the band happened to be playing. It was a slow ballad, well into the song so they must have been playing it for a few minutes...must have started playing it around Eight O'Clock.

They were playing something slow, which often was either for those not terribly good at dancing or those who were new to it.

Or simply didn't know how, like Steve.

Her hands sprang apart and with a sudden, sharp intake of breath she remembers his saying that they should ask the band to play something slow. Was this some sort of cruel joke? Was he actually here somewhere, getting ready to spring a surprise? If he was - if this was anyone's idea of a joke - she would kill them. It was not funny, not endearing, not in the slightest. However, as she looked around the club, looking for anything out of place or fishy...she found nothing. No one was even looking in her direction. She felt her heart sink, and then had to bite back the self-deprectaiting laugh that itched to leave her lips.

Lowering her head once more, she sighed to herself. This had to be one of the most pathetic nights of her exsistance. Chasing after ghosts, waiting for a man she knew would not come. Could not come. That was the thing of it, the thing that twisted her heart. She knew that more than likely, if he could have, that he would have shown up this evening. Taken her out onto the dance floor, absorb himself in trying to make certain not to step on her toes, and all the while the two of them would simply have had a grand time of it all, sore feet or no.

But they would never get that chance. Closing her eyes, she inhaled a deep, shuddering breath. She would not cry. She would cry for her Captain, for their lost time and missed chances, but not here. Not now.

A different man - a fourth one - came over to stand by her table, effectively breaking her train of thought. He waited until she lifted her disinterested gaze to him, for her to acknowledge his presence, before he spoke.

"Ma'am, I've gotta confess...I've been watchin' you these past couple of hours, an' I know you must think I'm crazy for coming over here after watching you turn away, what was it? Three different guys?" He started, and then paused, watching her, measuring her for a reaction it seemed. She didn't let him down.

"And what, you are aiming to be the fourth one I turn away?" Peggy responded, the sharpness of her tone and the fire lighting in her eyes actually causing the man to let out a chuckle. Not exactly when she expected, but she was still intent on keeping to herself this evening.

"Nah, not exactly." He paused again and gave her a small smile. "No offense miss, but I was thinkin' you look like you could really use a drink."

Hm. Not what she'd expected, and so she eyed him suspicously. After a moment, she sighed again and leaned back in her chair.

"I suppose you are right." Now she was the one pausing, as if thinking something over. Which, she was. "But...not tonight." She added breathlessly, glancing up at him. He was rewarded with an ever-so-small half-smile, though it did not quite reach her eyes. Still, and this was odd, the look and the smile seemed to have given the strange man hope.

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So...there it is. Love it? Hate it? Hope I didn't do too awfully bad, but please let me know what you think! ... And yes, well, the title of this story was heavily inspired by a song from Daughtry. Doesn't have to do with the story really, just thought it made for a good title lol.


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